


Shameful Pride

by gaidoku



Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: Blackmail, Bukkake, Bullying, Gang Rape, Homophobic Language, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Incest, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 15:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6121285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaidoku/pseuds/gaidoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shintaro wasn't sure why he'd been summoned to an empty classroom after school. It was annoying and tedious, and he found anonymous notes left in his locker more of a nuisance than anything- but whatever the reason, at least it should kill some time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shameful Pride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KidoTaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidoTaka/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Taka! Sorry it's a bit late! You may be a legal adult now, but remember: always read your smut responsibly.
> 
> ...I'm not promising that I wrote this responsibly, though.

There was something melancholy about empty classrooms. Half an hour or so after the last students left for home, their rushed efforts at cleanup duty leaving faint smears of chalk on the blackboard, there was still a sense of company, as if all the chatter of the day still lingered in the settling dust. It made one feel oddly at home, the soft lullaby of the room's pinkish glow settling in the stomach like feathers on a quilt.

The hands of the single clock on the wall crawled forward, and Shintaro Kisaragi, seated at a rear desk by the far window, stared with dull eyes out across the grounds. Occasionally, a student would walk by, headed towards the gate or chasing a ball, still in club uniform and loudly calling back to other players who were just beyond his line of vision, somewhere behind the school. If he weren't so resigned to solitude, it might have made him lonely. As it was, all he felt was a flicker of mild annoyance at their rowdy, useless noise.

Why had he been summoned here? Apparently, he was wanted at a council meeting - something like that, he thought, although in truth he'd only really skimmed the note left in his locker that morning. Idly, he scraped the end of a discarded pencil against the desk, leaving thin white lines in the wood. Perhaps it was a random draw, that sort of thing; that he had been picked out to take part in some kind of event, or some extra cleaning duty. Well, that was just his luck. At least it might provide a brief change to his monotonous daily routine.

He slipped gradually down in his chair, until his arms folded against the table and his head, suddenly heavy, slumped on top of them. The light of evening made him tired, and he struggled to keep his eyes from closing. Maybe nobody was coming, after all...

He was still thinking this when, with a brash laugh and a flurry of footsteps, the door slid open.

The group of boys standing in the doorway were just about exactly what he'd expected- seniors, in crisp, well-ironed uniform that gave away maids or doting mothers, with ties pulled tight enough to follow dress code but loose enough that they didn't look uptight. A quick glance told him there were five of them, but he recognised only a couple- a slim, tall boy with hair down to his shoulders that he clearly had no idea how to take care of and a larger boy who Shintaro knew only as the leader of the basketball team. He raised his eyebrows and snorted. They couldn't be scouting for recruits, could they? If they were, they'd probably left the note in the wrong locker. Come to think of it, Kobayashi was only a couple of lockers down from him, and he was the tallest and most muscular in the year. Shintaro sighed in irritation and swept the strap of his satchel over his shoulder

"You going somewhere, Kisaragi?"

Shintaro blinked, and hesitantly lowered his bag again."Who are you?"

The boy who'd spoken before laughed. He was slightly shorter than average, with hair bleached sandy blond and noticeably dark eyebrows, half-shaved and tapered like an elementary school delinquent. It was a look that might have been moderately attractive, were it not for the deep lines on his face which gave away a deeper sense of general contempt; his face was permanently scrunched around the nose, as if he'd just sniffed something particularly unpleasant.

"You don't know me? The hell, dude. I knew you had a stick up your ass, but I didn't figure it was so big you don't even pay attention to who you go to school with."

It was difficult not to roll his eyes at them, but he'd been told that people didn't like that, and he just wanted to get this meeting over with.

"Uhh... right. Sorry."

The boy nodded, and one of the others behind him moved over to the door. Was he about to leave? It seemed pointless for him to have shown up at all, then. The apparent leader of the group was addressing him again, so he forced his gaze back.

"Well, if you don't know my name, I guess that just makes this easier. Really, it's kind of a shame for you, but..." he shrugged. "That's what you get for being a prick."

One of the guys behind him sniggered, and Shintaro narrowed his eyes and lifted up the strap of his bag again.

"If you just came here to make fun of me, then I'm leaving."

"Hey, hey, not so fast!"

The boy had moved between him and the door, his ugly smile unwavering. Shintaro felt a chill ripple up his spine. Now that he noticed it, the group had arranged themselves in quite a convenient formation- a barrier of muscle between him and escape. All of them were grinning.

He bolted.

He didn't get far. Two of them moved simultaneously to block him, and he collided with them with a frightened yelp. Up close, it was even more obvious how much bigger and stronger than him they were. They pinned him easily, bending his arms backwards until he cried out in pain. His tendons strained against their large and bruising fingers, and as they tackled him onto his knees, it felt like they might snap.

For a moment, his vision remained blurry as the world spun. His breath was coming out short and shallow, and with each blink of his eyes he felt his brain pulse weirdly, as if it were trying to escape his head. Then his vision righted itself as suddenly as it had skewed, and he was being shoved roughly to the floor and pulled round so that he was facing the leader of the group, who was kneeling in front of him with an incredibly worrying smirk plastered over his face.

"Well, I guess your genius might not have been a _total_ fluke. You even tried to run away! That was pretty sensible. Shame you didn't have the wits to avoid coming here at all."

Shintaro tried to glare at him, but instead felt his face twist into a terrified grimace as he managed hoarsely:

"What- what do you want?" He added quickly, "I don't have money, so if it's that..."

"Uhhh... no. Not money. Although you're a little fucking liar, 'cause I know for a fact your sister's loaded."

One of the other boys called out from behind them, "in more ways than one!"

The group laughed nastily, one of them even giving the one who'd said it a high five. Shintaro felt ill.

"D-don't talk about..." he trailed off, the whisper that he'd barely managed faltering and dying before he could finish it. It wasn't ignored, though, as the leader cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

"Why not? She's hot - every guy in her school is talking about sticking their dick between those huge tits of hers. You've probably thought about it too. Any guy would." Shintaro said nothing. As much as their words angered him, he was only encouraging them to talk about her if he retorted, right? Maybe if he just pretended they were right then they'd leave her alone...

"What? No response?" The boy laughed. "Yeah, that's right, 'course you have. Man, what I'd give to be her brother, though! You get to jack it to the real thing while the rest of us are just stuck with magazines. Hey, you ever stolen her panties? Think you could get me a pair?"

Shintaro's nails were digging into his palms so hard that, if they weren't so bitten, they would certainly be drawing blood. Still, he kept his mouth tightly shut, staring at this guy with what he hoped came off as disdain and not the intense nausea he was feeling.

"Unless..." The guy studied him carefully for a second, then his face split into another hideous grin. "Unless you don't chase pussy. 'Cause you're a little pussy yourself, am I right?" And this, this was something just as bad as what they'd said about Momo. Because- they thought he was- that he was a worse pervert than a guy who'd jerk off to his own sister-

"I'm not," he managed, voice hoarse. The guy laughed.

"Yeah, no, I really see it now! There's that upperclassman you always hang out with- what was his name? Haruka? A girly fucking name for a girly fucking queer." He spat on the ground to the side of them, then reached out and grabbed Shintaro by the tie. "You think about getting fucked, then? That turn you on? You wanna be fucked like a girl?"

His ears were ringing. The raucous laughter of the group blocking the door turned to static before it reached his ears, fuzzing into something indecipherable as human expression, something almost beast-like that felt very far away. Haruka. His best friend. Why did hearing Haruka mocked like his sister make him so much angrier? With Momo, it was something the two of them had become unfortunately used to. He knew she could cope with it, to an extent; as she'd told him before, with tears and a yawn encroaching her tone, "that's just called being a girl." But Haruka... his feelings for Haruka were nothing so crude as what they implied, not anything their horrible dirty mouths had any right to mention. The jibes at himself only registered as secondary to that.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a loud smacking sound. Suddenly, he was staring at the floor, one cheek red and stinging.

"You listening? You better be. I think you'd really fucking regret it if you zoned out on me now."

Snapped back to reality, Shintaro looked up quickly, flinching as he noticed how uncomfortably close this guy was to him.  He gave a jerky nod.

"Good. Right, ok, so here's the deal." The guy paused and looked at him coldly for a few moments before continuing. "You think you're better than everyone, don't you? 'Cause you get the best grades in your year? I heard you even asked to be moved up. What's the deal with that?"

Shintaro wasn't sure what this guy was getting at, but he answered all the same in his usual flat tone:

"Maybe I _am_ better than everyone."

A punch, this time, on his other cheek. His already-dry lip split under the impact of knuckles and his ears rung unpleasantly.

"You shut your mouth. Talking smack won't get you anywhere right now, got it, freak? And what's with the way you talk, huh? Trying to be the cool type? Shame all the girls think you're a fucking creep, am I right? Guess it's no wonder you can only get with guys, you creeps gotta stick together..."

He kept his mouth shut, this time, but was unable to stop himself looking back at the guy and glaring contemptuously. He knew he was a freak, he knew he didn't fit in. But if anyone here was a _creep_ , he was fairly certain it wasn't him.

"Now, Kisaragi, down to business" one of the guys holding him shifted his grip, making Shintaro wince, "frankly, you've been making us look bad, kid. It just isn't cool for someone your age to be getting better grades than us. So you're gonna stop, alright?"

Like hell he was. Still, he gave a slow nod. If it got them away quicker, then there was no harm in lying about it. The older boy narrowed his eyes.

"Good. But I still think you owe us something, since you've been so rude to your seniors. You need a lesson in respect and fucking _gratitude_. See, we really just want to help you. Stop your head inflating to the point it explodes. We were just gonna beat you up a bit, you know? Nothing too harsh. But I think your case is more severe than we thought, isn't it, boys?" There must have been nods behind him, because the leader smiled and continued. "Hey, I have an idea. Since we got all horny talking about your sister, and you're a fag, why don't you help us out a little?"

Help them out? With what, their... there was no way they wanted him to do _that_ , right? These guys had already made it pretty clear what they thought of... homosexual intercourse, or whatever. And anyway, they were wrong about him, Shintaro didn't like guys to start with and even if he had, he still had absolutely no experience... the guy was standing up, so he must have meant something else after all. He chose his words carefully.

"...If you mean homework, I can do it no problem. Just-"

"I don't mean homework," said the leader, bending down and pulling Shintaro's chin up to look at him, "you think I can't do that myself? I'm not stupid." Shintaro said nothing, his mouth a tight line, eyes locked on the other boy's in breathless fear. For a moment, nobody moved.

Then the guy's hand moved to his belt.

Shintaro drew his head back sharply, colliding with one of the boys behind him. Whoever he'd hit gave a yelp of indignation and twisted his arm, hard, but even as he cried out in pain Shintaro barely registered it, instead transfixed in fear and disgust as the leader unzipped his pants. There was already a slight bulge in his underwear, suggesting that he hadn't lied when he'd said talking about Momo made him aroused. Unless, of course, he was just getting a thrill from the power. Shintaro started to struggle; scratching the hands holding him, scrabbling and shoving, trying to reach over his shoulder and bite the guy directly behind him. It was no use. At most, it seemed to be mildly annoying them. With an irritable growl, the leader grabbed his tie and pulled it harshly from his neck, not caring that it tightened round Shintaro's neck in the process, making him cough. He held it out to someone above Shintaro's head and and nodded at his cronies.

"Tie his hands."

Fabric wrapped around his wrists immediately. He was sure it wouldn't hold (something like a school tie was far too flimsy, right?) but the knot was pulled incredibly tight, locking his wrists together, even such a soft fabric feeling managing to chafe as the blood supply to his hands was cut off. Sure enough, when he tried to pull them apart, he was only met with more discomfort.

The guys behind him moved back a little, leaving him more room to move. Before he could even think of a way to use this to his advantage, though, the leader was pulling his dick out of his pants and all thoughts left Shintaro's head except _no no no gross gross gross-_

"What's wrong? You think you're too good for my dick, now?" The boy sneered. "Bet you do this for that prissy boy of yours. What's the difference, anyway? A dick's a dick. You should be grateful that we're indulging your perversions. " The boy grabbed a fistful of his hair, and yanked it, hard.

"Use your mouth," he told him, and, at the still-defiant look on Shintaro's face, he shook him by the hair. "Suck it, Kisaragi. Or would you rather your sister took your place?"

His gut lurched, and he slowly shook his head, but his mouth remained clamped shut. If he stalled long enough, maybe someone would notice the locked door and come to rescue him...

The boy sighed, and motioned to his friends.

"Come help me out, would you?"

The guy Shintaro had recognised as one of the sports captains moved forward. Eye level with his calves, Shintaro noticed for the first time that the boots he was wearing were shiny and thick around the heel- clearly made for kicking. His face paled, but he looked away defiantly as their clicking got closer and closer.

Maybe if he'd looked, the first kick wouldn't have come as such a shock. It hit him square on the ribs and he toppled sideways to the floor, gasping. Before he could right himself, there was a heavy kick to his stomach, then another; it felt like the soft organs inside were being crushed in a fist. Winded, he tried to curl into himself, tried to protect whatever he could, but still, kick after violent kick rained down upon his back and sides. His ribs were screaming at him, but all he could do was shout at them to stop as the pain hit him again and again.

“Alright, stop it for now. Let up.” The assault ceased, and Shintaro opened his eyes to see the leader back in front of him. “You gonna do what we say now, or do you want some more of that?”

Coughing weakly, Shintaro shook his head and slowly pushed himself upright. His entire body was trembling, but if he didn’t do this he was probably going to get both his sister raped and himself, killed. The latter wouldn’t usually be such an unappealing thought, but right now, right here… did he really want to die because of some stupid bullies who got off on beating up the smart kids?

That cock was in front of his face again. Feeling sick to his stomach, Shintaro opened his mouth slightly and leaned forward to press his lips against it. He was rewarded immediately with a sharp intake of breath, but he wasn’t really sure what to do from here, beyond what he’d seen in his porn. He shot a final disgusted look at the guy above him, and set to work.         

He swirled his tongue sloppily around the head, trying not to swallow despite the spit building in his mouth. The guy above him grunted, slightly releasing his hold on Shintaro's hair in favour of petting him like a dog. He wished he wouldn't. The fact that he was doing this semi-voluntarily was bad enough, but the petting felt almost like a reward, an indulgence, something far too gentle to be anything but patronising in this situation. In an effort to make it stop, he pushed the tip of his tongue against the guy's slit. There was liquid gathering there already, sweat and precome, and the mixture tasted foul. He licked it off, moving the flat of his tongue over the head, dragging the underside back around and slowly moving lower. He'd barely taken the head, but his mouth already felt far too full. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking. He pushed further, and realised he didn't know what to do with his teeth. It meant only trouble if he bit, he knew that. But there just wasn't... there wasn't space in there. He tried to adjust his lips, making a softer barrier to prevent his teeth accidentally scraping the skin, but his throat shifted as he did so and without meaning to, he swallowed, the inside of his mouth constricting around the intrusion. The guy above him moaned out loud.

"Oh... no way, the little fag's really getting into it!"

The insult rang through his ears, heating his face with shame and anger. With no other choice but to press on, he started to move back up the shaft, dragging his tongue against hot skin. The guy moaned again, quieter this time, and grabbed another fistful of his hair.

"Quit pretending you haven't done this before, you stupid slut."

He was pulled violently forward by his hair, his yell muffled as this guy's dick collided with the back of his mouth. He wasn't given any time to adjust before the guy pulled him back and slammed him forward again, panting loudly, his hand twisting violently in Shintaro's hair and pulling at his scalp. Shintaro squeezed his eyes shut as the guy moved him back, forward, picking up the pace- and then, with an intense jolt of pain, he was fucking his throat. He gagged, struggling to pull himself off, but the guy's hand remained firm and he had no choice but to cough and choke around the cock in his mouth, drool spilling from his lips. He hadn't realised that he was crying, but he was suddenly aware of warm tears rolling down his face.

A particularly deep thrust, and Shintaro's hands were scrabbling at each other, at the fabric binding them. His nose hit this guy's crotch and his lips almost made contact with the skin there, and then, with an intense shudder and a moan from the boy above him, there was hot, burning liquid shooting directly down his throat. He gagged furiously, opening his mouth as wide as possible in the vain hope that it would spill around the edges as it filled his mouth and give him some room to breathe. Each spurt was a fresh sting, and the slimy, disgusting feeling in his mouth and throat was only amplified by the amount of drool on his chin and the itching tracks of fresh tears on his bruised cheeks.

The guy was done, wasn't he? So why hadn't he pulled out yet? Shintaro forced his eyes open a little and tilted his head the fraction that he could to look up at him. He was met again by a grin, flushed and horribly smug.

"That's right, look at the camera."

It was only now that he saw the other boy, standing behind the one who'd just violated him. He was leering, clearly excited, holding his flip phone over his friend's shoulder. Shintaro felt his entire body freeze up. They both laughed.

"Yeah. That would probably make a good picture, but I kinda want everyone to see how much you enjoyed it. So, if you want me to let go, give us a peace sign- and look pleased about it, okay?"

They... wanted him to pose? So it would look... voluntary, he realised with a sick jolt. Even despite the obvious tear tracks on his face and his red, swollen cheeks, if he did something like that... some people would buy it, he knew. Which begged the question; who was this for? Their own sick enjoyment? But why save pictures to jerk off over if none of them were even into guys in the first place?

The dick in his mouth really wasn't moving, and although he could still breathe through his nose he felt as if he were going to be sick if this guy's come remained any longer in his mouth (and like hell was he swallowing- it tasted awful, musky and strong and bitter). He glared up at them and shook his wrists slightly to indicate that they were still tied. The leader nodded at someone behind Shintaro, and he felt fingers brush his sore joints as the tie was undone. Shakily, he raised one hand to his face and spread his fingers, attempting a very shaky smile.

He heard the click of the phone's camera (it seemed so loud, how hadn't he registered it before?) and then, in one rough and sudden movement, the guy pulled out of his mouth. Shintaro dropped immediately onto all fours and retched. Again, again, again. He was coughing so violently that it forced more tears, and each convulsion of his throat was accompanied by a dull pain- it had almost certainly been bruised, fucked so raw that there was even, underneath the taste of all that spit and semen, the faint metallic taste of blood. He couldn't tell if it was bile or come that was splattering the floor beneath him as he convulsed again and again, bruised ribs aching with each wave of nausea.

He spent a few seconds just staring at the floor, at that awful pinkish mixture of blood and semen and bile. His breathing was ragged and laboured, every inhale a painful struggle and every exhale feeling dreadfully final, like he might never find the energy to breathe in again.

He wasn't given any time to process what had happened. Already, he was being pulled by the arm and forced onto his knees. The tie that had previously bound his hands was wrapped around his eyes, causing a jolt of fear and a shudder. For some bizarre reason- perhaps to combat the urge to piss himself from fear- he felt his dick twitch, and realised with intense disgust that it was actually half-hard. No way had anything that just happened felt even remotely pleasurable, so why, why was there that tingling heat in the pit of his stomach? Why was there this sick and dark excitement in his heart?

Someone was guiding his hand upwards. He considered fighting, now that his arms were untied, but although his brain was whirring, he could see no way out of this. The door was locked. There were five of them, and even if four were to have their attention on him, he knew that one would remain by the door, acting as their lookout. Shintaro wasn't strong or physically active, so even if he did manage to get to the door, he'd be easily overpowered by the man watching it, and that was assuming that the others weren't also blocking the door... and his arm was tight in this guy's grip, anyway, which ached deep in his bones as it was. It wasn't impossible that this guy might be able to break his wrists. And even besides all that, now that they had pictures of him, could he really afford not to play along?

He was told to open his hand, and he didn't even think to disobey. Something warm and fleshy bumped against his palm, and, knowing what was expected, he wrapped his hand around it loosely. On his other side, his other arm was being guided up, pressed to another hard cock. The position was very uncomfortable- he was forced to push up on his knees, resting his weight right on the bone. He could easily lose his balance like this, and he was sure that if he did there would be punishment for it. Perhaps that was the intention. Still, he had some sense of pride left, and if he could help it he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of screwing up like they wanted.

"You gonna move your hands, or just sit there?" grunted one of the boys. Reluctantly, Shintaro began to pump, his hands moving lightly along the warm surfaces and back down, tracing their shapes as best he could with the blindfold. It was hard to keep up a steady pace; moving his hands in time with each other was proving difficult, and the muscles in his back and and upper arms were already beginning to tire. It seemed he was doing something right, though, because every time he rubbed a finger along a vein someone moaned loudly. If he could just get them to come quickly, this would all be over, wouldn't it? He redoubled his efforts, pressing and squeezing lightly as he ran his hands along, slowly rubbing a thumb over a slit whenever he reached it. Both guys were moaning now, and to Shintaro's utter mortification he felt his own cock harden more and more.

It didn't go unnoticed. Someone else, a deeper voice in front of him, gives a derisive laugh.

"Hey, no way. Look at his dick."

What can only be a boot was pressed into his crotch and he drew in a sharp gasp, his movement halting. The pressure was just enough to be painful, but not too much that it didn't still feel somewhat pleasurable, and he shifted his hips very slightly, unconsciously trying to get more friction. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, however, and he heard the sound of a zipper being undone.

"Heh, I wonder if he'll even get off to sucking this time?"

The tip of yet another stiff erection bumped against his mouth. This time he opened obediently, although it smelt and tasted worse than the last one. Had this guy even washed? It didn't seem like it- the smell alone was bad enough to make his eyes sting beneath the blindfold. Reluctantly, he began to suck, resuming his mechanical hand movements as he did so.

It seemed like these three all had less stamina than their leader, at least. It didn't take very long at all for the dick in Shintaro's mouth to begin throbbing and twitching against the heat of his tongue and, with a final, embarrassingly loud slurp, the boy came into his mouth. It didn't hurt this time, save from where it touched his previous wounds, but it went on for longer, spurt after foul-tasting spurt shooting into his mouth. The guy pulled out, releasing once more on Shintaro's face and earning a hoarse yelp of surprise. It felt disgusting, sticky and unclean, but to wipe it off he'd have to stop what his hands were doing. He spat a little of the come from his mouth, letting it dribble down his chin. He thought he heard the camera go off again and his gut lurched. He had to speed up before they had a chance to get any more pictures.

He was so worried about it that he didn't even notice the guy on his right was coming until his semen was splattering over Shintaro's face. He dropped his now-free hand to the floor, digging his nails into the palm again. It felt dirty, like he wanted to scrape off his skin. Still, he pumped with his other hand until suddenly, that guy was coming too, a low, guttural groan rising from his throat. More come on his face, and another stomach-turning click of a phone camera. Just what were they planning to do with all these pictures?

He let his other hand drop and simply sat there as the blindfold was removed. Come trickled down into his eyes, making him screw them shut. He wiped it off with one hand. Like hell was he getting this mess on his uniform.

He opened his eyes again. The leader of the group had moved towards him, and even Shintaro, who couldn't understand facial expressions at all, could see that his smile was unhinged. They were done, weren't they? They'd already done what they came for, they'd hurt him enough, so that meant they must be done. But his hands were being tied again, and someone was holding him down, not allowing him to stand. His eyes widened. No- no way- they had to be done, they had to be, someone was going to come and save him and then he was going to wake up and find this had all been just another paralysing dream, like the ones where he was drowning, stolen by the heavy, crushing weight of the sea- he was screaming, air pushing through his abused windpipe so desperately that the pain became detached, completely bearable compared to the concept of there being _more_ . He began to struggle in earnest, kicking and elbowing the boys surrounding him as best he could. There were assorted curses from the group; perhaps he'd just hit someone in the groin, because he heard a loud yell over his own screaming and a cry of "that little _bitch_!"

A balled up piece of fabric was shoved into his mouth and he was pinned to the floor, sobbing into the foul mess from earlier. His struggling became weaker. Nobody was coming. He'd screamed all he could, but it hadn't been enough, and now his chance was gone. He could only hope that he wouldn't be punished worse than originally intended for his bout of disobedience.

He registered rough hands pulling at his trousers, and really, this is where he should have struggled. But he didn't, too consumed by his own helplessness to do anything but sob weakly into the floor. There seemed to be some commotion behind him.

"Wait, you can't just stick it in. It'll hurt like a bitch."

"Who cares? He _is_ a bitch. Besides, wasn't it you who said we should hurt him as much as possible?"

"Not him, idiot- why would I care about that? It's gonna hurt _you_. You seriously never done this with a chick before?"

"Oh." The boy pinning him down sounded embarrassed. "Right. What do I have to do, then?"

"Slick it up with something, I dunno. Use your spit. Like when you jerk off, but a hell of a lot more of it."

Behind him was the quiet but sickeningly familiar noise of a hand working a penis. He could feel the guy above him shaking in anticipation, how it made his movements clumsy as his arms jerked with little control. Then his hands were on Shintaro's ass, groping hungrily at the flesh as he spread his cheeks. _Smack_ . A stinging pain made him cry out. _Smack_. It hurt even worse the second time, the sensitive skin already raw.

At least the spanking was a pain he could handle. On the other hand, the pain that shot through him when this guy's tip pressed against his opening was entirely new. Burning and aching at once, and on top of that the disgusting, filthy feeling of something pushing through his anus, like going to the bathroom. The boy hissed.

" _Fuck_ , it's too tight. I can't get in."

Someone laughed. "Why? You worried about hurting him? Don't tell me you're a queer too, Satoshi."

That seemed to be all the encouragement the boy needed. He grabbed Shintaro by the hips and forced his cock further in, forcing past walls that were closed far too tight to allow something of such size. He pulled Shintaro's ass into the air in his effort to get deeper inside of him and Shintaro whined in pain, writhing on the floor. His lip had split again- he'd been biting down on it hard enough to bruise- and his spine felt stretched, tortured, somehow straining more and more as the boy on top of him pushed deeper, inch by inch. Then hips met his ass, and suddenly he was in too much pain to even scream.

It was worse as he pulled out. Whatever damage he'd just done was pulled and stretched, torn in the other direction. Fighting for breath, Shintaro pressed his face into the floor, allowing tears to once again slide down his face. It hurt. It hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced. So why did he feel like he deserved this? Why was that making him feel so good?

The guy was just making shallow thrusts inside of him, probably trying to avoid causing too much friction, and for that he was grateful. But the danger of it was that, with every thrust, he managed to enter a little deeper. His cock was already buried so far in, but still, still, it somehow continued carving a path through Shintaro's body- until suddenly it hit something, something that made him moan and push his ass against it. If the pain had been like no other pain, then this pleasure was like no other pleasure. Invasive, painful, and intense beyond belief. So long as that spot was being hit, then he could bear with this, bear with anything...

"M-more," he managed, and he was disgusted with himself for saying it. But this was already happening, wasn't it? It was already too late to get away, so it wouldn't make sense to deny his body this small relief amidst the pain that plagued it. He heard snickers, but the thrusts became rougher, hitting that spot again and again and again... he cried out each time, alternating between 'stop', 'more' and a 'please' that could have meant either of the two.

He came with a choked cry, soiling his trousers and the hard floor. The guy fucking him groaned, and then, with a few more deep, fast thrusts, released himself deep inside. He pulled out immediately, and Shintaro felt his come slide down his ass. He lay still, breathing heavily, as the group started to talk again.

"You get that on video?"

"Yeah, man. I wish I could see that kid's face when we show him."

_That kid_ ? Who was _that kid_? He should probably be more worried about that, shouldn't he? But he felt oddly empty, all the fight drained from his aching bones. He knew that he couldn’t fall asleep like this, and the others seemed to know it too, because he was being roughly lifted, his pants yanked up around his waist and the come and blood wiped from his face and hair. They let him fall back onto the floor when they were done, and the fresh ache as he hit the ground barely registered. Were they leaving? It sounded like they were still doing something. Blearily, he tried to focus his vision enough to see what they were doing. They were huddled in a group, looking down at a small object that one of them was holding and laughing. Was that… was that his phone? What were they doing with it?

But his head was spinning, faint with exhaustion in the aftershock of everything that had just happened. It felt oddly like he was floating away from his body. His vision was black around the edges, as if he were looking through a telescope or a long tunnel, and it skewed the perspective of the room so that the group looked incredibly far away. The pain, too, was dulled. Detached, as if it were no longer his own.

The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was a shout of victory and a fresh round of laughter, but he had no time to wonder what it meant before the last of his awareness slipped away.

 

***

 

It was already dark outside, and Haruka Kokonose’s sparse room was lit only by the warm and gentle glow of a single lamp on his bedside table. He was propped up by his pillows, staring out of his window with an open sketch book balanced on his lap. There was nothing to draw out there at this time of evening, but all the same, the view of the street was peaceful and familiar. The trees rustled a little in the night wind, and somewhere he heard a dog barking. He closed his eyes.

His calm was interrupted by the loud beeping of his phone. That would be dad, texting to let him know that he wouldn’t be home tonight, just as he had every other night since Haruka was twelve. Sighing, he opened his eyes again and reached for the bedside table. The screen was lit up, glow harsh in contrast with the lamplight, and it made him squint as he read the text on the screen:

 

**Kisaragi Shintaro**

_[Video message]_

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
